Inside the Leader
by SonomaCurtis
Summary: Riff's alive!  me: yay!  But how has the gang changed since he left? Is he still 'in love' with Graziella? please review
1. Chapter 1

He heard the sirens faintly, then all went black and dead. The next thing Riff knew, he was waking up in a hospital bed. Slowly he looked around. Everything in the room was bland, bland and dark.

Suddenly the door opened and a girl came in. Riff couldn't make her out until the door closed behind her. He could see her soft golden hair that was curled just under her ear. Her pearl earrings caught the glint of the sun between the blinds. She walked across the room and opened up the window.

Morning light flooded the room, giving Riff a clear view of the nurse's face. She was pale, paler than Graziella or Velma. She had long eyelashes that hovered above her most startling feature. Her eyes were a brilliant green. For a few seconds Riff couldn't tear his gaze from her eyes.

"Oh, it's good to see you up." She said, noticing Riff's open eyes. The young man tried to sit up but an intense pain hit his gut. The young nurse's eyes flashed with alarm. "Please, lie back." She demanded, pushing gently on his shoulders.

"Where am I?" Riff asked, doing as he was told.

"You're in a hospital. You've been out cold for two days due to a bad concussion and blood loss."

Riff shook his head. So that's what happened.

"Oh, dear! I almost forgot!" The nurse exclaimed. "The doctor told me to ask for your name."

"Ri- oh, I guess you want my real name." He corrected himself. Green Eyes sat on his bedside, smiling.

"Yes, that would be the one."

"James Murdoh." He muttered. It was embarrassing enough to say his name out loud, much less to a dame. But this kid didn't seem to care. "Uh, how 'bout you?"

"What? Oh, yes. My name is Irene Brown." She answered, writing down something on a clip board. When she finished, she looked back at Riff.

"So, James, why were you in a rumble?"

"Riff."

"What?"

"That's what I'm called." He explained.

"Oh, I see."

As to answer your question, a new gang was movin' in on our turf." He said. "A gang of spics."

"Please don't use racist terms." Irene said quietly. "My brother-in-law was Puerto Rican." Riff was caught by surprise.

"I'm awful sorry." He muttered. Again he had embarrassed himself. Then he saw his chance to redeem himself. "Were there any others hurt? Anyone?"

"Yes. A young Puerto Rican boy. His room is down the hall and flooded with visitors. Apparently his sister, his fiancée, and his parents are all still here. He's in critical condition so they should leave soon."

"What's his name?" Riff asked, his throat dry.

"Bernardo-something. I wouldn't know, I'm not his nurse." Irene saw Riff's stricken expression. "Well anyway, you should be getting some rest." She said and gently changed his pillow and sheets.

"Aren't you a little young to be a nurse?" Riff questioned, trying to get Bernardo out of his head.

"Well, my father is a doctor here and he pulled a few strings." Irene laughed. "But I work hard to stay here." With that she held out her hand for Riff to shake, then left.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Riff woke up early and found Irene already moving about the room. For a couple minutes he just watched her work. Her blonde hair bounced gaily up and down her neck and her delicate fingers sprayed the flowers on his windowsill with water.

Wait. Tulips? Yesterday the sill had been empty.

"Good morning, Riff." Irene said cheerfully. "Your room looked sorta plain so I brought these in."

"Y'know flowers are supposed to lighten a person's mood." A man's voice said from the doorway. There stood a well-dressed man. He marched into the room and ignored Irene's happy hello. He just went directly to Riff.

"Hey, Pop." Riff said nonchalantly.

"Don't you 'Hey, Pop' me!" Mr. Murdoh growled. "I'm called in the morning while I'm trying to go to work to be told that my son was in a gang fight!" He roared.

"Now Mr. Murdoh, there's no need to shout." Irene came up behind him. He truned on her.

"This is none of your business!" He shouted. "Don't you tell me what to say to my son! Do you know how much this is costing me?"

That tore it. Ignoring the pain Riff swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He took his father's collar in his fist.

"There's no call to shout at a nurse." He grated. Irene, who was more concerned for Riff's health, placed herself between the two men.

"I'll take care of this," Irene whispered to Riff as she sat him down. Then she turned to Mr. Murdoh. "I believe it's time for you to leave now."

"I thought I told you to-." But he was cut off. Irene had shoved him backwards.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'll give you until I count to three to get out. Mr. Murdoh laughed and stood his ground while Irene counted. "I warned you." She said. Then she suddenly grabbed his wrists, twisted them behind his back, and escorted him down the hall to the waiting room. When she came back to Riff's room, she began laughing.

Riff was impressed. It had taken him years to lick his old man and this girl had just done it without any preparation. Irene finally noticed Riff staring.

"What's wrong?" She exclaimed and ran to his side. "Are you all right? Did you reopen a wound?" While she questioned him she yanked up the bottom of his shirt and examined his knife wound. "I'm so sorry. I should have told him to hit the road right off."

"Why be sorry?" Riff asked. Had his hands always gotten this warm when he talked to a girl?

"Well, if I had gotten him outta here faster, you wouldn't have had to strain yourself doing that."

"Doing what? Defending a pretty girl?" He asked, laughing.

"Oh, thank you." Irene blushed.

For the next two days Irene and Riff became better acquainted. But on Monday she couldn't come in due to school.

Darleen called her over to the lunch table.

"Irene! Irene Brown!" She called. Quickly Irene crossed the floor and sat beside her friend.

"Shh, every one's staring at me." Irene muttered.

"But what's wrong with that, Irene Brown?" Darleen asked as loudly as she could.

"Oh, shut up." Irene smiled. But Darleen frowned.

"Something's on your mind. Otherwise you would've yelled at me." Darleen said worriedly.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just that I've got my first patient!" Irene said excitedly. For years she had been training and now she could prove herself.

"Oh that's great! I mean, not for the patient, but you know." Darleen smiled.

"Yeah, I know."

"So, what's wrong with them?" Darleen was curious.

"He says that he was the leader of a gang. And at a rumble he got hurt."

Darleen's face paled. "Um, what was the name of his gang?" She asked, suddenly quiet. Irene remembered that Darleen's brother was in a gang.

"The Jets." Irene said slowly. Darleen's eyes lit up.

"James! Your first patient, is he James Murdoh?" She asked excitedly. Irene laughed loudly.

"Oh my goodness! Yes, that's his name. What a coincidence." For a moment Irene was quiet as she chewed her lunch.

"Say, why don't you come in today? Riff's only had one visitor so far."

"Riff?" Darleen asked, momentarily distracted.

"Yeah, that's what his nickname is." Irene explained. "So how about it?"

"Sure. Wait, who was his other visitor?" Darleen asked.

"Your father."

"Now you see why we moved out."


	3. Chapter 3

Riff looked out the window. He couldn't believe that he was already mostly healed. He had been reunited with his sister and had found out about Tony's death. Alot of important things had happened in this bland little room. The door behind him opened and closed. Slowly, trying to get used to the crutch he was required to use, Riff turned around.

Irene walked over to him and helped him into a jacket.

"Just be careful from now on." She said. In the back of her mind she too was reluctant to have this end. Riff had been her first patient to care for on her own. And it would probably be a while before she'd get another.

In his mind Riff was having a war. He knew he felt something for Irene. but should he express it. Should he go back to Graziella? He watched her as she went about, making the bed. Finally he made a decision.

"Irene?"

"Hmm?"

"I've been thinkin' about somethin' for a while now." He said. God his throat was closing up! That hadn't happened since he was ten! Irene continued with her work. "And I've had a real bad feelin' that I ought to do somethin' about it." Her smooth hands flattened the sheets down. Riff couldn't stand it anymore. He wasn't some kid! Why in the world should he be any less bold with one girl than another? So he gripped Irene by her shoulders and kissed her hard before she could make any objection. When he pulled away, Irene was breathless.

"Was that what was on your mind?" She asked. A small smile flickered across her face and Riff knew that he had made the right move. Again he kissed her. Irene, who had not recovered from the first round, was thrown completely out of her element.

Again she couldn't understand what was happening. Her world raced. All she could feel was the heat of Riff's body against hers and cold stealing over her mind. Suddenly, all was black.


	4. Chapter 4

Irene opened her eyes to see Riff's concerned face. For a few seconds her mind was in a fog, and then she sat up, stock still.

"Oh, please tell me I did NOT just faint." She muttered, more to herself than to Riff. "Oh, God."

Riff chuckled.

"Yeah. You did." He said, sitting beside her on the bed. Irene shook her head and sighed to herself.

"Oh, no. You must think that I'm one of those girls who'll faint on a dime."

Riff put his arm around her shoulder.

"Nah. You're probably one of the toughest people that I know." He whispered into her ear. Irene felt a chill go down her spine.

"Riff, I think it's time you go back home." She said without thinking. Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. Riff drew away and nodded.

"Yeah, okay." He got to his feet and hobbled out the door.

Riff made it out into the streets before he felt the weight absolutely crush his heart. It wasn't the first time he had been refused by a dame. But it was the first time it had really bothered him.

Back in the hospital room, Irene sat on the side of the bed, mentally kicking herself for pushing away another good thing in her life. Just to do something, she began to straighten the pillow. But she stopped when she heard a crackle. Curios, she lifted the pillow and revealed a small note.

_Green-Eyes,_

Irene stopped. He had called her that only a couple times. But she liked the sound of it.

_I'm probably gone back to life on the streets now that Tony's gone. I sure hope that sometime you'll look me up. I know I'm not good at talking, but I think you're worth the words I do know. Feel free to come by the gang any time you want._

_ James_

Irene clutched the letter to her chest and slowly breathed out her nose. Maybe Riff was more to her than a patient. She now knew that he thought of her as more than just a nurse. Finally she made her decision. Quickly grabbing her coat, Irene bolted out of the room and out of the hospital. She could still catch him. It couldn't be too late.

A roll of thunder warned Irene of the impending storm, which only made her run faster. As the rain pounded down around her, Irene finally spotted Riff. He was on the opposite sidewalk and was hobbling as fast as he could. Irene turned and bolted out into traffic, barely being avoided by oncoming cars. Once she reached the other side she stopped to get her breath and again ran after Riff.

"Riff!" She shouted. Her arm reached toward him, the note clasped tight in her grip. "Riff, please wait!" Again she called. This time he stopped and turned around. His eyes lit up with surprise at the sight of Irene, soaked and panting. At last she made it to him and held out the note to him.

"What?" Riff asked in confusion. As her panting eased, Irene's eyes became serious.

"You left this. And you left me." She said. Riff shook his head.

"You told me to." He threw back.

"I told you to leave because I was afraid!" She snapped. "I've always been afraid of good opportunities. And Riff, you're the best opportunity I've had in a long, long time." Tears filled her eyes as she realized the rush of words pouring out of her mouth were painfully true. "Riff. Please, don't let me ever, ever, lose this opportunity." One fat tear ran down her cheek.

"Y'know somethin'? I've always run away too." He said gently. Irene wiped her face on her wet sleeve.

"Maybe you're not good with words because you just being there is enough." She said quietly. Riff cocked one eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"In your letter. You said that you weren't any good with words." Irene explained. A smile played at the corners of her lips. "And you're right. You write the corniest stuff I know."

Riff smiled at the tease.

"What now?" He asked. Irene shrugged.

"Well, I suppose you kiss me. Then we get out of this rain."


End file.
